


World's Greatest Dad

by Mildredo



Category: Glee
Genre: Awesome Burt Hummel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildredo/pseuds/Mildredo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Burt is an excellent father and has many mugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World's Greatest Dad

For as long as he can remember, Kurt has had a standard set of gifts he gives to his father for any particular occasion. He likes to be creative with his gift-giving but Burt is a man of simple pleasures. With the other people in his life, Kurt has great fun in trying to find the perfect, most unique gift he can. With his dad, the fun comes from being as creative as he can within the boundaries of what he knows will be appreciated and used, not shoved on a shelf to gather dust.

For Christmas, he gets a selection of heavy-duty work socks, a box of whatever chocolates were cheapest (because Burt resents the purchase of expensive chocolates, insisting that chocolate is chocolate no matter how fancy the packaging), and a shirt that Kurt refuses to reveal the price of because he knows it won’t go down well.

For his birthday, Kurt conspires with Carole to get a tool that needs replacing or upgrading and a CD by an artist he’s mentioned he likes when they come on the radio.

For Father’s Day, he gets a mug. The mugs take up almost a whole cupboard in the kitchen. Kurt bought the first one with his saved up allowance when he was nine years old. It was a small blue mug with the word ‘DAD’ printed in large yellow letters, taking up the entire space from one side of the handle to the other. Burt loved it so much - he hadn’t been expecting anything, since Kurt was nine and he didn’t have anyone to buy gifts on his behalf any longer. He used the mug every day, even though it was too small to fit more than a few big mouthfuls, and the next year Kurt saved up again and bought a bigger, more appropriate mug. Best Dad Ever. Sensing a theme establishing itself, Burt took a marker and wrote ‘2002’ on the base of the first mug and ‘2003’ on the second.

In 2004, Burt was World’s Best Dad. In 2005, he was #1 Dad. In 2006, he was the Most Awesome Dad.

Kurt tries to get a different accolade each year, though the collection has grown so large that it’s difficult not to get a duplicate. It’s a tradition that Kurt takes very seriously and he spends days scouring the internet for the perfect mug.

*

It’s the hottest June on record and they have a two month old child in the house, so sleep is nonexistent and brain function seems to have gone along with it. Kurt and Blaine spend the majority of their time stumbling around like zombies, trying to stop a colicky, overheated infant from screaming while the air con and as many fans as they could get their hands on seem to do nothing to ease the oppressive heat. Abby doesn’t settle for long before she’s crying again and she’s keeping just enough milk down that they aren’t taking her to the doctor just yet. They fight, they cry, they forget to eat and don’t drink nearly enough water, and Kurt spends more than one evening on the phone with his dad, sobbing down the line because he’s certain that he’s a terrible father.

Abby’s just gone to sleep with three fans around her crib when the doorbell rings. Kurt and Blaine both take sharp breaths and wait, anticipating fresh screams through the baby monitor. When Abby doesn’t stir, Kurt sighs and opens the door while Blaine groans that they _really_ need to get a sign to warn visitors that they have a baby who is hopefully sleeping. The delivery guy apologizes immediately upon seeing Kurt’s haggard, everything-deprived face and hands him two brown boxes. They’re the same size, perfect cubes, with one addressed to each of them.

“Here,” Kurt says, handing over Blaine’s box as he flops beside him on the sofa. “Yours.”

They open their packages in silence and Kurt gasps when he sees the circle of ceramic peeking out above the packing material.

“I forgot Father’s Day,” he whispers, shaken by the realization. He’s never forgotten.

Each box contains a mug, identical except for the bases. In purple marker, in Burt’s handwriting, is their first initial and the year 2021. They’re shiny purple ceramic with raised green letters reading ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ amidst cartoon fireworks and streamers. At the bottom of the boxes there are handwritten letters and Kurt reads his through gathering tears.

_Kurt,_

_Here’s a secret: every parent thinks they suck. Truth is, most parents do suck in some way. Nobody is perfect. We all screw up. Once, just after you were born, your mom left me alone with you for the first time while she went to visit her grandma and when she got back, you had your diaper on the wrong way around, you’d puked all over the rug, you were in your crib screaming bloody murder, and I was in the kitchen, just staring out of the window, ignoring it all. I thought I sucked. I thought I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle a kid. I couldn’t be a dad. And your mom? She just cleaned up all the mess, calmed you down with what I could only assume was magic, then stood there beside me because she felt exactly the same way as me. You’ve spent so much time telling me that I’m the best dad in the world. It took me a long time to believe it. It’s time for me to repay the favor._

_Happy first Father’s Day, kiddo. You’re killing it, I promise._

_Love always,_

_Dad._


End file.
